HP Oneshots

  People would probably never believe him if Draco were to tell them that he preferred children to adults. It is unbelievable, he’ll admit, but it’s the solid truth. Children are loud, clumsy, messy little creatures. They also don’t judge people for who they are or where they happen to come from. They always speak their thoughts; even if those thoughts are better left unsaid. They don’t understand things like war or politics or prejudice, no. They stick to the more important things like; why are clouds so fluffy? Or, why are brussels sprouts so disgusting? Draco loves them.

  This is why he is secretly delighted when their Care of Magical Creatures professor tells the class that their year will be in charge of supervising the first years on a field trip located in the denser parts of the Forbidden Forest. There are audible groans all around and Draco had to quickly hide his excitement behind a mask of bored indifference.

  “Oh c’mon, don’ be like tha’.” Says Hagrid as there is another round of groans. “It’s jus’ fer one day, an’ the firs’ years are all well behaved, so there’ll definitely be no problem.”

  “You’re sending us into a dangerous forest with a bunch of infants, you oaf.” Pansy complained under her breath. “I see a lot of problems.”

  Draco refrains from rolling his eyes. “Hush, Pansy.” He shushes her.

  “It’s fairly simple.” Hagrid claps his hands together. “Yeh’ll be split inter’ groups o’ three, and yeh’ll be helpin’ each other supervise groups o’ ten.”

  An excited murmur arises around the students as they begin searching out and clutching onto their friends. 

  “Ahem, I’ll be pickin’ yeh groups for yeh if yeh don’ min’. Ya know, inn’er ‘ouse unity an’ all.” Hagrid continues causing more groans. “I’ll start now, yeah? Righ’ now, we ‘ave:

  Lovegood, Thomas an’ Zabini

  Parkinson, Weasley an’  Macmillan-”

  Pansy let out a wail of despair. “A Weasley and a Hufflepuff? Is he trying to kill me? You know, I wouldn’t put it past him.”

  When Draco doesn’t answer, she hits him with her book. “Show some sympathy, will you! I’m being led to my death here!”

  “Ow!” Draco rubs at the sore spot gingerly and glares at her. “Poor you.” He says, his voice flat. 

  “-an’ the las’ group; Smith, Malfoy an’ [L/N]!” Hagrid beams at the whole class who- unsurprisingly- does not beam back.

  Draco chokes on his own saliva and turns to face Pansy, horrified. “Who did he just say I’m grouped with?”

  “ Zacharias Smith and [Y/N]  [L/N], why?” Says Pansy, not paying attention to him but to her nails, examining them with a detached sort of satisfaction, unaware of Draco’s crisis. 

  There’s a moment of silence as Draco tries to regain his composure when the realization hits her. “Oh, oh. Is that the girl you’ve been going on about for- I don’t know- a century?” 

  “No” Draco denies quickly, but he knows it’s useless when Pansy smirks evilly.

  “Oh ho ho. This is gold, you literally have her to yourself for a whole ninety minutes. Draco Malfoy, whatever are you going to do?” She drawls.

  Draco gives Pansy a look which he knows conveys just how much he would like to throttle his best friend. Pansy is undeterred and she sticks her tongue out at him before scanning the crowd.

  “Just where is the unlucky girl, I wonder?” She muses loudly.

  “She’s right-” Draco stops himself. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.” He fibs. In truth, he’s actually been staring at her on and off throughout the whole class but Pansy doesn’t need to know that. Judging from the sly look Pansy is now giving him, Pansy already knows that. 

  “Oh Draco, you have it so, so bad, honey.”

  The Field Trip

  The first thing Draco notices about her is that she gives great lectures. All the first years are enraptured as she describes different magical creatures and plants with creative little details, not to mention adding her own fun facts to keep the children's attention from wandering. The next thing Draco notices is that although she is great at teaching children, she’s not that great with, well, children. He watches in amusement as she squirms uncomfortably when a little Ravenclaw girl praises her in awe, and then has to stifle a chuckle as she flinches away from a young Hufflepuff boy when he grabs and holds onto the end of her school robes.  

  “Charles, what exactly are you doing?” She asks, her voice strained.

  Charles looks forlornly up at her. “My aunt told me that if I’m ever in an unfamiliar place, I should stick close to the most responsible person.”

  “Oh, boo hoo” Smith mutters nastily. Draco shoots him a glare but Smith doesn’t see it, occupied as he is scowling at [Y/N]. 

  That’s the next thing Draco notices. As far as observation serves him, [Y/N] and Smith seem to have a strong mutual disliking for each other. Every once in a while, one of them would take a subtle- or not so subtle- swipe at the other and after a particularly cutting comment from Smith, Draco was about ready to hex off his private parts. How dare he.

  The three of you and your little group had reached a small clearing in the forest and [Y/N] had decided to give the first years a little break by giving them free rein.

  “This is exactly how I wanted to spend my day,” Smith says sarcastically, leaning back against a tree. “Babysitting a bunch of brats while listening to Ms. I-know-everything over here prattling off about fungus. What joy.” He sneers.

  That’s it. Draco’s had enough. He raises his wand and a hex is already on the tip of his tongue when he’s blocked by someone stepping in front of him. At first, he’s confused because he thinks [Y/N]’s trying to stop him from cursing the bastard but then he sees that she has her own wand out and it’s jabbed directly in between Smith’s eyes.

  “Careful now, Smith. I have tolerated your pathetic, immature whining up until now but you still insist on mouthing out your lame, dumb, downright imbecilic thoughts. You have two choices; shut the fuck up or get hexed. It’s completely up to you.” She threatens menacingly, eyes narrowed into dangerous slits.

  Draco stares at her open-mouthed. He’s never seen her like this before. Like sure, he’s seen [Y/N] when she’s mildly irritated but even then the most she’d ever done is glare murderous daggers at the offending person.

  And she has been glaring daggers at Smith, he supposes. She’s probably just reached her breaking point.

  It’s a shame that Smith hasn’t come to the same conclusion.

  “What, are you seriously gonna hex me in front of all your precious little first years?” Smith goaded. 

  [Y/N] freezes as if just now registering her surroundings, shoulders slumping in defeat as she lowers her wand. “You’re right” She says regretfully. Then a beat.

  “KIDS, VOTING GAME TIME! Who do you guys like better; me or Mr. Smith here?”

  There’s a short moment of surprised silence then the small group erupts chaotically into cries of “[Y/N!]” and “I like [Y/N] the best!”. Draco is pleasantly startled when he hears a few voices exclaim “My favorite is Draco!”

  It warms his heart and he sends an uncharacteristic smile the children’s way.

  “There you have it, Smith. I have a feeling that they won’t be telling on me, whatever I do to you.” [Y/N] gloats, wand gleefully trained back onto him.

  Draco has to admire this side of her . Even though he knows just what she’s capable of, having already witnessed her in action. She’s never really been the type to use her skills in such a way. It’s what drew him to her in the first place.

  Smith bares his teeth in an ugly snarl. “You wouldn’t fucking dare [L/N], I’ll -”

  “ Densaugeo!”

  The Hufflepuff doesn’t stand a chance. The rest of his sentence is cut off as his front teeth start growing at an alarming speed, eliciting surprised yelps from the first years and a very unladylike snort from the caster. Draco can do nothing but stare as Smith tries to conjure the counter-curse through his botched dentures, fails, turns tail to flee... and barrels head first into a tree, effectively knocking himself unconscious.

  Salazar, we’re going to be in so much trouble.

  “ And that, darlings, is how you deal with morons.” [Y/N] bows with an overexaggerated flourish to enthusiastic applause, cheeks glowing with poorly concealed pride, the first years clamoring all into her space, praises of amazement filling the air. 

  Draco is done for, he hopes his family will attend his funeral. Cause of death: [Y/N] [L/N]. The love of his life, a menace to the general society. May his soul rest in peace.

  “Umm, you won’t tell on me, will you?”

  It takes him a solid minute to realize that the question is directed at him, along with bright, questioning eyes.

  As if I ever could. “Why would I? Prick got what he deserved.” An idea occurs to him then. “On one condition, though.”

  [Y/N]’s posture straightens minutely, interest piqued. “What?”

  It’s now or never, he decides. “Next Hogsmeade weekend, have lunch with me.” Wait, that was too abrupt. “Uh, please?” Ugh, nice going you simpleton. 

  Quietness descends as [Y/N] and the first years both gawk at him wearing identical looks of bewilderment. Oh crap, he completely forgot about the first years. Merlin, smite him now. 

  “... lunch as in a date?” [Y/N] questions, suddenly standing right in front of him, gaze piercing. When did that happen?

  “Y-yes, a date.” He barely manages not to stutter, desperate to exude the notorious Malfoy confidence he absolutely does not feel. “ I would like to court you, if you’re amenable to the idea.” Great, now he just sounds snobbish. Where the hell is Pansy when he needs her?

  “If I’m amenable,” [Y/N] repeats, smile spreading slowly across her face, “how gentlemanly of you.”

  Is he being teased right now? 

  Before he can work himself into a full blown panic, she takes pity on him as well as both his hands. It’s a considerably light hold, the barest of pressure applied and yet he finds that he can’t. Bloody. Breathe.

  “Breathe, Malfoy.” She grips his hands harder, grounding.

  “I’m trying.” He wheezes. He really is, he swears on his mother. It’s just a tad bit difficult when the person he’s been obsessing over is casually touching him like it’s nothing when he’s trying not to flipping die.

  “Do you really mean it? You really want to date me?” The query is uttered softly, meant only for him, the uncertainty so clearly laced in her tone catching him completely off guard.

  “Yes I bloody well mean it!” He splutters, “what the hell do you think I’m freaking out for, woman?! This is way out of my comfort zone, mind you and if it wasn’t obvi-” His tangent is interrupted by peals of sudden laughter. [Y/N] collapsing into him in a fit of uncontrollable giggles nose pressed against the side of his neck.

  Without thinking his arms wind themselves around her automatically, holding her in place as she tries to calm herself down. He’s not even mad, it was a stupid tangent anyway. He takes a chance and nuzzles the top of her head gently, immediately emboldened when she doesn’t pull away.

  “You dolt,” She says into his collar, voice muffled by the fabric, “I’ve been trying to get your attention since forever. I’m the one freaking out right now.”

  No way. No fucking way.

  He hugs her tighter. “So you’re saying tha-”

 “I’m saying yes.”

Baby you look happier, you do.

Draco doesn’t know why he’s feeling like this. He was the one to end things with you, he was the one who had to witness the hurt look you gave him, he was the one who broke his own heart in the process. To be honest, he hadn’t really let himself dwell on it. Your hurt and sadness had comforted him. Let him know that he wasn’t the only one longing, wasn’t the only one broken beyond repair, but what could he do? His father had made it clear that he was to steer clear from you.

The pain had really begun to take a grip on him when he saw that you were healing. You started eating properly again, you talked to your friends more, you paid more attention in class, you… were ignoring him completely.

2 months ago

“We should end this.” The words had been blurted out, unplanned, but Draco didn’t take them back.

You blinked at him slowly, disbelievingly. “What?”

“W-we should end this.” He repeated, his voice wavering unconvincingly.

You studied him carefully, your expression calm and controlled. “I’m sure you have a reason.” You prompted.

Draco took a shaky breath and nodded. “ We- we don’t- this isn’t working out.” He said lamely.

“You mean your father doesn’t want this to work out.”

He can’t help but flinch at your tone. “This has nothing to do with fath-”

“I’m not an idiot, Draco.” You cut him off. “Don’t treat me like one.” You say the last bit softly, reaching out to take his hand. “You won’t fight for us?” 

He doesn’t answer, his gaze drawn down to your intertwined fingers and his heart aches. He doesn’t want to lose this. It’s the best thing that’s ever happened to him. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to him. He can’t lose you, he just can’t.

But Draco has never been strong willed. He’s never been able to defy his father, he’ll probably never be able to. Family has always been his number one priority, it has to be like this. The more he repeats it in his head, the stronger his resolve becomes.

He wrenches your hands apart.

“I don’t love you.” He tells you coldly, his old mask firmly in place.

You step away from him hurt, and he ignores the pang in his own chest as he musters up a sneer.

“You were just a toy, something for me to pass the time. Of course I was going to get bored of you eventu-” He falters when he sees your expression. Your face is completely blank. The warmness he is used to seeing in your eyes is gone, replaced with an icy coolness he’s never seen before. He hates it.

“Fine.” The words cut through him like a knife as they leave your lips in a tone of voice he doesn’t recognise. You turn away from him, your posture perfect and sophisticated but also tense and rigid. He wants to reach out to you. Pull you into his arms and hold you close until all the tense lines fall away. Until you melt into him, like you’ve done so many times before…

His hands clench into fists.

“Fine.” You repeat indifferently. You give him on last glance over your shoulder before walking determinedly away, leaving him alone in the empty corridor feeling like he had just lost his whole world.

I knew one day you’d fall for someone new

You’ve been getting close to this Ravenclaw boy whose name Draco can’t remember. He’s good looking, with dark hair and even darker eyes. The polar opposite of Draco. 

The guy follows you around like an eager puppy, cracking jokes left and right occasionally getting a smile out of you. Draco hates him. He wants nothing more than to rip him away from you and hex him into oblivion, but he doesn’t. He keeps away as he watches this guy slowly healing all the cracks in your heart. Cracks he had caused. He watches as you slowly open up to him, your smiles coming easier and more frequently. As the pain slowly ebbs away from you features his own pain steadily grows day by day.

It hurts.

It hurts.

It hurts.

But you look happier. That’s all that matters, right? A little voice in the back of his head answers that question for him.

Of course I want her to be happy. But I want her to be happy with me.

But if he breaks your heart like lovers do

He saw you two in Hogsmeade today. You guys were alone together so naturally he had to follow you. He walked a few feet behind you with Pansy and Blaise in tow. His brow furrowed as he saw you lean up to whisper something into the Ravenclaw boy’s ear. His jaw clenched when the boy laughed warmly at you and he stopped walking completely when the boy reached out to take your hand.

Pull away pull away pull away! His mind screamed at you, but of course you couldn’t hear him.

“Oi Draco, are you okay? Your face looks weird…” Blaise asked looking a little concerned.

Draco snapped out of his daze and hastily rearranged his facial features into a confused frown. “What do you mean?”

“You look like a Hippogriff took your wand and ate it.” Pansy cut in, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Who’s the girl?”

“I- no one. There’s no girl, you’re talking nonsense.” He defended albeit unconvincingly.

Pansy looked dubious as she examined him closely. “Nope, there’s definitely someone.” She concluded gleefully. “I bet it’s a Gryffindor!”

Draco cringed involuntarily and quickly tried to hide it but it was too late.

“Oh dear. Honey I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.” Pansy wasted no time enveloping him in a warm hug. Draco’s not sure why that triggered his breaking point but he crumbled into her arms taking great, shaking breaths as he pressed his face into her shoulder. For a fleeting moment, he imagined that he was hugging you, that it was your hair that was tickling his cheek, your arms that encircled his waist. But this isn’t you.

It isn’t you it isn’t you it isn’t you.

 Draco pulls out of the hug abruptly and fixes both Blaise and Pansy with a half-hearted glare. “There is no girl.” He repeats loudly, clearly, confidently. So different to how he feels inside. But he’s a Malfoy. He can get through this. He has to get through this. He will get through this, because the alternative would be to crawl back to you on his hands and knees and beg you to take him back. He desperately wants to do that but he can't. 

He can't he can't he can't.

 “Didn’t you want to go and look at the new chess sets?” He addresses Blaise loftily.

 Blaise takes the hint and steers the conversation to chess but Draco doesn’t miss the cautious glances that are sent his way by his two best friends. He steals one last glance in your direction and breaks just a little more. Why did he even think he could do this?

Just know that I’ll be waiting here, for you

He graduated from Hogwarts two weeks ago. He aced all his exams and even beat Granger in four subjects. His father had praised him for it and Draco should have felt pleased..... but he didn’t. His chest felt hollow and empty inside, like something was missing. Who was he even kidding? He knew what was missing. 

In fact he had seen you the other day in Diagon Alley, perusing a shop window. Before he could register what he was doing, his feet had already made its way over to you. You turned when you sensed his presence behind you and stiffened immediately, though it barely lasted a second and your stance relaxed again.

“Malfoy.” You greeted coolly, an obvious tension in your shoulders.

It’s Draco, you’ve always called me Draco. “[L/N].” He greets back shortly. What the hell is he doing? The longer he looks at you, the more he wants to reach out and just-

“[F/N]!”

You look over Draco’s shoulder to the voice that’s calling you and your face lights up a little. It’s the same face you used to make when you passed him in the corridor between classes. With a feeling of dread, he follows your line of sight and his body goes rigid, because it’s that stupid Ravenclaw guy.

Are they still friends?

Wait, are they more than friends?

Are they together?

“Well, that’s my cue. I guess I’ll see you around then. You’ve also got accepted at the Ministry, right?”

All Draco can do is nod bleakly at you.

Something flashes in your eyes but he doesn’t quite catch it because now you’re walking past him to join Stupid Ravenclaw.

The guy extend one of the shopping bags he’s holding out to you enthusiastically, you give him a slight smile as you take it from him, opening it to peer inside. Draco watches Stupid Ravenclaw gaze at you in complete adoration and everything hurts. This isn’t how things should have turned out. You and him should have graduated together. You and him should have then been able to move into a small but new flat together. All those lost moments, memories that would never happen...

He watches as you walk away without a glance back, talking animatedly to Stupid Ravenclaw, your hands making random actions in the air.

Draco: She hasn’t posted anything in-

WWHH: When did I get this?? I’m so happy!

Draco: You shouldn’t be. You should be slowly suffocating in guilt because you haven’t been writing anything at ALL.

WWHH: Bu-

Draco: Take a look at that inbox, woman. Does that look empty to you?!

WWHH: …

This was a request and it’s an X-men kind of crossover, so pls enjoy.

“They’re not even wizards! What is the old man even thinking inviting them here?” Draco complained over breakfast to the whole Slytherin table, making sure that his voice carried as far as possible. 

He directed a glare at the new table set right up at the front where five of the students from Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters currently sat eating peacefully. He intensified his glare, willing one of them to turn back to acknowledge him but none of them did.

“That may be so, but they definitely aren’t muggles.” Pansy reasoned, pouring milk into her tea with a neat flourish.

“Pansy, this is the Triwizard Tournament. Not the Trimutant Tournament.” Draco raised his voice again and this time one of the mutants did turn around making Draco recoil involuntarily.

Six eyes. He’s got six eyes.

The six-eyed mutant boy gave him a scathing look before turning back to his breakfast and Draco barely managed not to flinch.

“They’re freaks I tell you, freaks!” He whisper-shouted vehemently.

“I think they’re kinda hot.” Blaise cut in, absentmindedly chewing on a pork rib. Draco choked on his food and goggled at him, lost for words.

“Really, Blaise.” Said Pansy flatly. “You think that’s hot?” She pointed her chin in the direction of a girl with abnormally fiery red hair who was currently using her very long tongue to lick her plate clean without even having to pick it up.

Blaise stared in disgusted fascination for a short moment then shrugged. “Well okay, not all of them.” He relented. “But look at that one at the end.” He gestured with his fork.

Draco’s eyes followed the utensil and came to rest on a girl.

Well he’s not wrong, he thought.

The longer he looked at her, the harder it was for him to look away. There was just something so aesthetically pleasing about her and Draco kept staring until Pansy jabbed him in the ribs, hard.

He stifled a yelp and rubbed the sore spot gingerly. “That was not necessary, Pans.” He grumbled.

Pansy grinned cheekily. “I rather think it was.”

Draco threw a croissant at her.

“Hey, you know what?” Blaise chimed in. 

“No, what.” Draco and Pansy said simultaneously.

Blaise gestured to the girl again. “Apart from being insanely attractive; don’t you guys think she looks a little- I don’t know- normal? For a mutant, I mean.”

Draco studied the girl for a moment and found that Blaise was right. While the other four mutants had obvious tells that they weren’t humans (spikes, tails, multiple eyes etc.), the girl all three of them were currently scrutinizing had a fairly human appearance.

“I bet she breathes fire.’ Blaise mused.

“Or ice.” Draco countered. 

“Maybe her power is really mild, like making plants grow.” Pansy suggested sarcastically.

“Or maybe it’s- oh shit. Abort abort abort! She’s looking our way.!” Blaise hissed as he grabbed a newspaper, shaking it open and disappearing behind it.

Draco hastily made a show of stirring his porridge while Pansy merely rolled her eyes.

“You two are really pathetic.” She told them.

Draco couldn’t agree with her more.

Draco can’t sleep. No matter what he does or what position he changes to, sleep just refuses to come. For some strange reason, he can’t stop thinking about the mutant girl. Granted she did give him and his friends a rather withering glare for all their staring that morning. There was just something about her that had managed to catch his eye. He doesn’t know what it is, but there’s just something…

Yep, he can’t sleep.

Quietly, so as to not wake up his dorm mates, Draco slides out of bed and puts on his slippers (yes, he wears slippers, shut up). He grabs his wand from his bedside table, stowing it carefully away in his pyjama pocket. He figures a quiet stroll around would be what he needs to get his thoughts together, so with determination, he sets out to do just that.

Who knew the castle could be so quiet? Draco was used to seeing the corridors filled and buzzing with life, but right now, just after midnight, everything was still. He likes it.

He walks around aimlessly, not exactly sure where he’s headed. That question is answered soon enough when he finds himself walking out the doors and making his way towards the quidditch pitch.

This is more like it. The breeze in his hair and clothes, the smell of grass, the moonlight glinting off of the hoops, the weirdly shaped thing sitting on the stands and the- wait. 

Draco backtracks. What the heck is that on the stands? He squints hard at it but he’s too far away to see what it is. For one horrible moment, he thinks it’s a Dementor but immediately let’s go of that idea. Dementor’s don’t just casually sit on stands in the middle of the night and besides, Dumbledore sent those things away ages ago.

So what is it?

Cautiously, he takes several steps in it’s direction and when it still doesn’t move he takes another. Maybe it’s sleeping, he reasons. He takes another step and a twig snaps noisily causing the creature to jump up in surprise giving Draco a clear view of it’s figure in the moonlight.

His mouth drops open.

“You have wings???”

The mutant girl eyes him up and down. “Ah, you’re one of the starers from this morning.” She recounts bluntly. “Stalking is also not cool, you know.”

“I’m not stalking you.” Draco says hotly. “I was out for a midnight stroll.”

The girl raised her eyebrow sardonically, not saying anything. She shifts her stance a little and Draco gets a good view of her wings.

They were huge. Twice the size of her body and pure white, made up of layers upon layers of soft feathers. Magnificent, really.

“See something that interests you?” The girl teases, smiling slightly.

Draco snaps out of his daze. “N-not particularly, no.”

“Well, you’re the first person to see them since I’ve come to this school, so you should feel honored.” She tells him conspiratorially, giving him an over-exaggerated wink.

Draco is horrified when he feels his cheeks heat up and quickly coughs to hide it. “W-where do they go? When we can’t see them, I mean. Do they just disappear or something?”

“Not exactly, no. How do I explain this?” She taps her chin thoughtfully, her hair falling into her eyes a little.

She has nice eyes.

 “They kind of contract back into my body, I guess. Then when I want to unfurl them they just… pop back out.”

“Does it hurt?”

“Not really.”

“Can you fly with them?”

“Of course I can.”

“Are they soft?”

“… why don’t you feel them?”

“What, really?” He asks, surprised.

The girl narrows her eyes contemplatively but then extends one of her wings out towards him. “Go ahead.”

Draco immediately reaches out before she changes her mind. He gasps slightly when his fingers come into contact with the feathers.

“They’re really soft.” He breathes, stroking his hand over them gently.

The girl shrugs. “They’re just feathers. Feathers are supposed to be soft. You know, there’s a girl back at the academy called Trinity, and she has these awesome pitch black butterfly wings. Next to those mine aren’t even half as impressive.” She sighed, moving her wings away. Draco mourned the loss.

“I think I prefer your wings.” He stated.

The girl gives him a curious look. “Really?” She asked quizzically.

“Yeah, they make you look like an angel.” He answered. 

It takes a moment for Draco’s brain to process the words that had just left his mouth.

“Wait, no.” He backtracks. “No-not that I think you look like an angel because you don’t by the way. I’m saying you-you have angel like wings and they just…you know…” He trails off pathetically looking anywhere but at the girl. Why oh why did he have to say that out loud?

“No ones ever… called me… an angel… before…” The girl says, her voice unsteady and Draco chances a glance at her. She’s looking him with wide eyes and her cheeks are dusted with a little pink.

That’s a nice color on her.

“Wait, what. No one? No one at all?” He feels the need to clarify.

She shakes her head as if to clear it. “Everyone back at the academy calls them cockatoo wings. Have you ever met a cockatoo? I’ll tell you right now if those assholes are gonna be angels of anything, then they’re Satan’s angels from hell.” Her words are nonchalant but her tone is slightly bitter. Draco wonders if he’s hit a sore spot and decides to change the subject.

“You do know it’s past curfew, right? You’re lucky there aren’t any teachers about.” Draco fought the urge to kick himself. Curfew? Out of all the things out there to talk about, he mentions curfew?

The girl brandishes a small scroll of parchment. “I have a permission slip.” Then a sly expression crosses her features. “Do you?”

“I don’t.” Draco admits. “But I’m Draco Malfoy, I don’t need a permission slip to be out on a midnight stroll.”

The girl perks up for some reason. “Draco Malfoy? That’s your name? Huh, it’s really cool.” She looked oddly happy at this and Draco felt a weird fluttery feeling in his stomach. He’d never gotten that kind of reaction before. Whenever people learned that he was a Malfoy they either grovelled to get on his good side or shied away in fear. The girl’s reaction was… nice, in a way.

“So, what’s your name?” He inquired tentatively.

“[f/n] [l/n]” She replied almost immediately, eyebrow quirking slightly. 

“…’’

“…”

Now what? Draco thought. What on earth do you say after introductions? Do you shake hands? Should he shake hands?

He was interrupted from his little dilemma when [f/n] began flapping her wings experimentally. She caught his eye and in one swift movement they disappeared back into her body leaving no trace that they had ever been there.

“I guess I’ve stretched my wings enough for now so I think I’m gonna head back inside.”  She held out her hand. “It was nice meeting you, Dragon.”

Draco could practically feel his insides melting into a pool of mush. She called him Dragon. His own mother calls him that so it shouldn’t be endearing. What is wrong with him? For fucks sake, he needs to get his act together.

 “N-nice meeting you too.” He took her hand and then all of a sudden all he can think about is how soft they were, just like her wings……

“Yule Ball!” He blurts out before he could stop himself.

There’s a still silence as [f/n} blinks a few times, her grip still loosely on his hand. “What?”

Draco swallows. Well, he took a step, he’ll keep walking. “The Triwizard Tournament usually comes with a Yule Ball which requires you take a-a date.”

She continues to stare.

“So basically I’m asking if maybe you’d like to- you know, if maybe you’d like to…”

She’s still staring. Draco gives up.

“Forget i-”

“Okay.”

Draco hears. He processes. “…huh?”

“You’re asking me to the ball, right? I said ‘okay’.” Oh god she’s got that weird happy expression on her face again and Draco just knows he’s done for. He takes a deep breath, gathering up whats left of his dignity.

“I’ll pick you at seven, don’t be late.” He goes for a bow but then remembers that he is clad only in pyjamas and a pair of slippers therefore probably looking like an idiot. He settles for quick nod of the head, ignoring the amused twinkle in [f/n]’s eyes, before walking away back the way he had come.

He’s already halfway across the pitch when [f/n] calls out to him. He turns too quickly for it to look casual and makes a mental note to chastise himself for it later. Malfoy’s need to be cool and suave, Draco. Cool and suave.   

“I just remembered that I’ve already picked out a dress and it’s green so please don’t pick something that would clash!” She shouts into cupped hands.

Draco can’t help the surprised smile that etches itself onto his face and because Malfoy’s don’t shout, he signals to her that he understands.

It doesn’t have to be Draco, it can be any other Harry Potter character, just please please plEasE don’t send anything weird (aka. Snape highschool AU).

She’s not eating. Why isn’t she eating?

It’s breakfast in the Great Hall and Draco is sipping his usual cup of tea while he surveys the Gryffindor table. His eyes are locked on [Y/N] [L/N] as he half listens to Pansy nattering on about the latest fashion trends in France or whatnot. He arches an eyebrow when he finally sees you reaching for your spoon but frowns when you make no move to put any food in your mouth.

It’s been going on like this for a while now, you coming down to the feasts only to sit quietly by your friends as you stare off into space. It also frustrates him that he seems to be the only one who has noticed your odd behavior.

“Pansy.” He says suddenly, interrupting her rather animated rant on leather skirts. “Does she look thinner to you?”

Pansy scrunches up her nose in confusion. “Does who look thinner?” 

“Her.” Draco gestures in your direction with a piece of toast.

Pansy raises her finely plucked eyebrows at him skeptically but obliges him and regards you thoughtfully. “That’s [L/N], right? She does look a little bit on the light side.” She observed. She then swivels in her seat to look at Draco. “Why has that suddenly piqued your interest?” She asks slyly, a smirk slowly making itself home on her face.

“No reason.” Draco says quickly, making a show of devouring his last piece of toast. “You’d better eat up, class starts soon and I have no intention of waiting for you.”  He tells her, eager to change the subject. Thankfully, Pansy decided not to pursue it instead choosing to continue he earlier rant. When he was sure that her attention was fully diverted, his focus sidled back to you. He really didn’t like this weird clenching feeling in his chest and he resolved to keep a close watch on you for the rest of the day.

The day passed and everything was relatively normal. True to his word, Draco’s attention never strayed from you and by the time lunch finally arrived, he was just about ready to tear his hair out.

Why hasn’t anybody noticed her condition?

You moved around sluggishly as if in a daze. Tiredness was written all over your face but no one so much as voiced their concerns. 

“Eat for fucks sake. Eat.” He murmured under his breath. You frowned suddenly as if hearing his thoughts and for a split second, your eyes were locked onto his. The eye contact didn’t last, however, seeing as Draco quickly looked away praying to both things holy and unholy that no one had noticed how his skin had gone an unnatural shade of pink.

Dammit, I’m acting like a blushing maiden.

“Draco, you’re staring.” Pansy commented nonchalantly as she examined her reflection in the back of a spoon.

Draco glared at her halfheartedly. “Of course I’m not, shut up Pansy.”

Pansy merely stuck her tongue out at him in response, then her expression turned weirdly sympathetic. “If it makes you feel better, I have noticed that [L/N] has been acting a little oddly lately. She looked particularly unsteady on her way out of Potions, but then again, it could have been just the ghastly fumes omitting from that place.”

Draco perked up immediately. “Exactly, there’s definitely something going on with her! We just need to figure out w-” He stopped short at the look Pansy was now giving him. “What?”

Pansy just shook her head slowly while turning back to her reflection. “Has it occurred to you that you might be getting a little obsessive, darling?”

Draco spluttered indignantly.”I just think she’s acting a little off! That’s not obsessive, it’s healthy curiosity!” He retorted. “Besides, she’s a Gryffindor. Why would I be obsessive over a Gryffindor?”

Pansy stared off dreamily into space. “It’d be just like that muggle story.” She sighed. “Romeo and Juliet.”

“. . . Pansy.” He ground out through gritted teeth. “They both die you utter bint.”

“So? I happen to love tragic love stories.”

Draco groaned and didn’t even bother trying to look dignified when he let his head hit the table.

*******

Draco’s worry was starting to wane as nothing out of the ordinary happened to you. Sure, he was still concerned but he figured maybe you had just caught a nasty sickness somewhere.

The incident occurred in the last class which happened to be Defence Against the Dark Arts (of course it was). Everything was going fine until the last half hour of the lesson, when the professor decided to test the students on the new spells they had been taught by organising a short dueling session.

To his chagrin, you got paired up with Theodore Nott, and Draco ended up with Looney Lovegood.

“No need to go easy on me, okay Draco? I can take care of myself.” Luna informed him in her usual dreamy like voice.

Draco caught his sneer in the last moment and instead gave the girl a strained nod before looking back at you. You were starting to look pale again, and are your hands shaking? These are not good signs.

“She doesn’t look good, does she?” Luna’s voice, laced with concern drifted into his ears. He turned to look at her in surprise.

“You noticed? Why haven’t you said anything to her? To her friends?” He snapped harshly.

Luna didn’t so much as flinch. “Why haven’t you said anything?”  She countered.

Draco stared at her in disbelief. “Are you crazy? They’d hex me on the spot if I so much as got within seven paces of them!”

Luna tilted her head slightly to the side as she regarded him. “You’re right. I forgot that they didn’t like you much.” She said finally.

“They hate me, Looney.”

“Hate is a strong word.”

“Yes, that is why I used it funnily enough.”

Saving himself from the conversation, Draco turned away from the Lovegood girl and strode over to stand next to Theodore so that he and Luna could duel side by side to you.

You eyed him curiously up and down but didn’t say anything choosing to send a wicked smirk to Theodore. “Have you ever dueled before, Nott? I wouldn’t want to hurt you.”

Theodore looked taken aback at the jab, but took it in stride. “I would worry more about yourself, princess.” He teased, his tone bordering on flirtatious.

Draco was not okay with that.

Thankfully you seemed to take that as an insult because you expression cooled rapidly. “We’ll see.” You said quietly and without warning, you cast.

“Locomotor Mortis.”

The Leg-Locker Curse hit Theodore square on the shoulder and he went down less than gracefully. His arms were still free though and he threw his own spell at you.

“Confringo!”

You didn’t miss a beat. “Protego.” You pointed your wand at a desk. “Oppugno.” It began mercilessly hammering Theodore on the head.

Said person had completely forgotten his wand in favour of using his arms to shield himself from the attacking object, while his legs were still pathetically glued together.

It was very clear who won that round.

“Go [Y/N]!” Luna cheered, clapping enthusiastically.

You gave her a tired smile in return, and that’s when Draco noticed your sudden pallor.

“How did react so quickly? Teach me your techniques!” Lovegood buzzed excitedly, not noticing how you were now swaying slightly.

Draco did notice however and he tensed.

You ran a hand through your hair as you gave Luna a strained smile. “T-there’s not much to teach, really. You’ve just got to mov-”

Thunk.

Draco was by your side in a heartbeat. He tapped your cheek lightly but you didn’t stir. 

“Someone get the professor!” He yelled, ignoring the strange looks he was getting from his classmates.

“What’s happening, what have we got? Oh my.” The professor copied Draco’s position and kneeled down beside you. He took your wrist gently and paused for a moment listening to your pulse. Draco hadn’t realised he was stroking your hair but he didn’t stop, imagining that if you were awake, you would have found it comforting.

“Everyone, give Miss [L/N] some space please!” The professor declared. “We need to get her to the Hospital Wing.”

“I’ll do it.” Draco offered immediately. That finally got some reaction.

“Why you, Malfoy?” Weasley spat. “What gives you the right, huh?”

Draco glared at him hatefully. “Maybe because I actually noticed that she’s been feeling off. Unlike you, since you were too busy stuffing your fat face with whatever snacks you can get your filthy hands on!”

“You take that back, Ferret Face!” Weasley drew his wand, his face having gone a very unflattering shade of red that clashed horribly with his hair.

Draco drew his own wand in retaliation and was about ready to throw a hex at the twat but Potter stepped forward.

“Stop it! Stop it both of you! This isn’t going to help [Y/N] and Malfoy’s right, Ron. We weren’t exactly paying attention...” Potter stared shamefully at his feet leaving Draco slightly unnerved that The Boy Who Lived had actually stuck up for him.

“Enough, all of you.” The professor intervened. “I’ll be taking Miss [L/N] to the Hospital Wing. Class dismissed.”

“Professor, may I come with you?” Draco asked hastily, schooling his face into a hopeful expression causing Weasley to snort. Draco paid him no mind and continued to silently beg the professor. “Please sir, we don’t have any more classes anyway...” He pressed.

“All right.” The professor relented. “Come now, we’ve dawdled long enough.”

* * * * * * * * *

Draco never left your side. Not when you were lowered onto the bed. Not when Madame Pomfrey began casting spells on you. Not when she force fed you a potion (he had helped). Especially not when he had been told to leave.

The nurse had given in to his stubbornness and he had been allowed to stay for as long as he wished, on the pretense that he had no classes so that it wouldn’t be a problem.

His hands had somehow gravitated back to your hair and he was still stroking it when you awoke.

“Malfoy?” You inquired a little croakily.

“Y-yes?” He replied a little unsure of himself now that you were actually awake. 

You and him weren’t really friends and he figured it was weird for you to be seeing only him right after gaining consciousness.

You sat up slowly and he didn’t stop you, mostly because he was afraid of what your reaction would be if he did. You took in your surroundings with a slight frown marring your features before turning back to look at him.

“What the hell am I doing here?”

“You fainted.” He said firmly, not able to think of any other way to explain it.

“Ah.” You said, stumped.

“Ah.” Draco echoed.

You gave him a weird look. “Why are you here?”

Thrown off guard by your forwardness, Draco frantically searched the recesses of his brain for a good answer. “Madame Pomfrey made me keep watch.” He lied.

You raised an eyebrow. “And you didn’t throw a fit? I’m impressed.” You mused. “I’m awake so you can go now.” You told him but he didn’t move.

“You fainted because you haven’t been sleeping and eating properly, according to Madame Pomfrey.” Draco said in a rush.

A flash of discomfort crossed your face. “Sooo?” 

Draco stared at you incredulously. “So, why?!” He questioned.

You folded your arms across your chest and avoided his gaze, fixing your eyes on a bedpost instead. “That is completely none of your business, Malfoy. Why on earth do you care?”

Draco stood his ground. “Why?” He repeated.

“Go away.”

“Tell me.”

“Why?”

“That’s my question.”

“Sod off, Malfoy.”

“Tell me what’s going on.”

“No.”

“Tell. Me.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“Oh for Godric’s sake. Fine!”

Draco smirked in triumph while you looked like you’d very much like to punch him. He waited patiently while you gathered your wits about you and let out a breath of frustration.

“It’s nothing drastic....” You began quietly.

Draco nodded slightly to indicate he was listening.

“You know my family, right? Well, they’ve always stuck to the oldest traditions and I recently got a letter from them saying that they had arranged a marriage for me and a boy from the Rincewood family.”

Something sharp twisted in Draco’s gut at that and his throat dried up. “They’re quite prestigious.” He managed.

“I declined.” You said flatly.

There was a pause.

“You. . . declined.” Draco repeated slowly.

You nodded. “They didn’t take it well and one thing led to another. So they may or may not have disowned me now.” You finished in one breath.

Draco sat back in shock. “They really disowned you?”

“Yup.” You confirmed. “The not eating and sleeping was unintentional on my part. It was just the stress building up.”

You sounded quite detached about it all, resigned even. Your eyes had a glossy sheen to them and it seemed to him that you were trying very hard not to cry.

For some reason, he got a really strong urge to comfort you and before he knew it, his hand had already moved to place itself tentatively on your arm and when you didn’t shake him off, he found your hand and gripped it reassuringly. A voice in the back of his head told him that this was very unlike him but he silenced it.

“They’ll come around eventually.” He said as supportively as he could.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes but your fingers curled around his a little tighter. “You obviously don’t know my parents, Malfoy.”

Draco took a chance and used his free hand to thread his fingers back into your hair again. He couldn’t quite hold back his smile when you relaxed into his touch almost immediately.

“You’re right, I don’t know your parents.” He agreed. “But parents are parents. They can be fuck ups- I mean look at my parents- but at the end of the day, they’ll always love you. . . in their own twisted way.”

You fell silent for a moment but when you spoke again you sounded hopeful. “You think so?”

“Yeah.” He said, shifting uncomfortably. This comforting business really wasn’t his fort but then the smile you gave him afterwards ruled out any other thought. Damn that was bright.

“Besides,” He continued. “If it doesn’t work out, you could always come stay at the Manor for a while. There’s an empty room next to mine you could- wait- wha- why are you laughing?”

You shrugged helplessly, letting go of his hand to cover your mouth with it. Draco tried very, very hard not to frown but figured he didn’t quite manage it.

“I didn’t really believe Parkinson when she told me you had a crush on me, but now you’re actually asking me to move in with you and I just- “ You dissolved into another fit.

Draco scowled, his face heating up rapidly. “Pansy is a fucking traitor.” He muttered darkly.

You sobered up after a bit and looked at him gratefully. “Thank you, I really appreciate it but this is kind of my problem. I should be the one dealing with it.”

Draco arched an eyebrow and stared pointedly at the hospital bed you were currently on. “And how is that working for you?”

A beat.

“Not good.” You admitted.

Draco sighed and left his chair to sit on the bed next you. “Look, “ He said. “It’s quite clear that it’s out of the bag that I might. . . fancy you a little bit and you had to find out from Pansy making it downright humiliating on my part. The least you could do is let me help you.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You really are a Slytherin, aren’t you?”

“I wonder why the Sorting Hat decided to put me there?” 

“Cut the sarcasm, dollop head.”

“That’s not even a word.”

“Sure it is.”

Draco crossed his arms over his chest. “Fine then. Describe dollop head.” [A/N: This is a Merlin reference because I like it and I want to.]

“In two words?”

“If you can.”

“Draco Malfoy.”

“. . .  Ah. Ha. Ha. Do we have a deal or not?”

Your eyes glinted in mischief. “Only if you can tell me where this phrase is from.”

Draco blinked in confusion. “What phrase?”

You cleared your throat dramatically then fixed him with a mock glare. “My father will hear about this!!”

“. . . “

“. . . “

“Do you want to die??”